So it’s almost a month since FeeBee died. And for dog lover’s reading this you know what I am talking about. Those of you who aren’t pet friendly – you might want to move on. Losing a pet is tough and if you don’t get it….well, you don’t get it.

FeeBee and I had a great many great years together. Fortunately, or not, her passing was quick and I hope painless. She was fine one day and not the next. While it is hard to have to make the decision, it was the best one for her – although not for me.

Lots of emotion goes into her death. Rationalization that she was a dog, not a person. But oh the love a good animal – who doesn’t talk back and lives for your affection, care and companionship. And in the case of FeeBee no one else but me – she was finicky, to put it nicely. And now that she is gone, so much routine went with her.

Our long walks to the Capitol – the first of which I took today without her. It was not the same, but I know will be eventually.

Our morning cuddles (really the only time she allowed it).

Making the bed with her on it – off it – on it – off it. It was a game we are no longer playing.

When I hear someone in the hallway, I am still expecting and preparing myself for her leap off the bed/couch/ottoman to bark loudly at the door she guarded with her life – which is no more.

The game of fetch we played whenever I returned home. Albeit a version of the game – a couple or three throws and then the Shar Pei look of “Why am I doing this?” The look is no more.

So I am crying on and off, missing her terribly. Telling myself it has only been a month, this too shall pass. And at the same time assuaging the guilt of freedom for not rushing home from work or weekend activities to gladly take care of my FeeBee. What I wouldn’t give to have her back to rush home to.